


The Void and the Pattern

by DragonHoardsBooks



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Low Chaos (Dishonored), look I don't know how that pairing happened either
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:29:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18547969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonHoardsBooks/pseuds/DragonHoardsBooks
Summary: The Outsider is very interested in marking one Corvo Attano. That one was promising to be interesting.Corvo, however, has prior obligations. He draws his power from quite a different source.





	1. Prologue

The strands of fate weave a Pattern. Of the world and its creatures, of light and darkness, of choice and destiny.

And between those strands, the Void. A place of nothing. And everything. It is ruled by the Outsider, who some call a demon and others call a god.

But it wasn’t always this way.

 

In the beginning, there was balance.

Both the Pattern and the Void had their acolytes, who spent years and even decades slowly mastering the gifts their chosen Powers granted them.

Followers of the Pattern lived and breathed the world. They walked on the wind, wrapped in shadow and cradling flames, oftentimes making friends of the animals living around them.

The Seekers of the Void gained powers outside the living world, seeing beyond mortal boundaries, walking between the cracks and even controlling time itself.

 

But then, there was a group of Seekers who disliked the effort it took to gain even the simplest of abilities. “How much easier it would be”, they thought, “If there was a sentience in the void. Someone to give us powers, even beyond what we might have imagined possible. Someone to control the Void.”

If took them years to prepare, but eventually, they found a way. They took a boy from the streets; they stabbed a dagger into his heart and used his blood to cast him into the Void.

And so the balance was broken.

 

The Outsider rules the Void. He has almost forgotten what it means to be human, to be mortal. He picks his favorites on a whim, and discards them just as easily. To him they aren’t much more then puppets, twitching every which way with the new powers he hands them on a silver platter. Anything to hold the loneliness at bay, the almost boredom that stems from centuries of suffering.

 

With the Outsider a Power in the world, the followers of the Pattern were desperate to be a counterpoint. They became more fanatic in decrying the Void and its followers, until they forgot that the supernatural has its origins both in chaos and order. The only ability remaining in the Abbey of the Everyman is kept by the Oracular Order, who even now seeks to read the future woven in the Pattern.

 

And still, a small faction remains. Scattered from Serkonos to Morley, families keep the old stories and the teaching, passing it on to their children, who in turn watch the world, and learn.

 

_On the final day of the Blade Verbena, Corvo Attano enters the arena. The wind surrounds him, ready to guide his blade. As he takes a last breath before the fight begins, Corvo swears he can almost see the strands that weave his opponent’s destiny._

_This is the beginning._

 


	2. The Fall

Even as the boat got closer to Dunwall Tower, Corvo felt his nerves settle. Sick as it was, he _knew_ this city, the stone, the air, the people. While he wished he could bring Jessamine better news, he was so, so very glad to be back.

Only half listening to Captain Curnow, Corvo hurried towards the bridge, where he could feel Emily running closer.

“Corvo!” she shouted, jumping into his arms, “Corvo, you’re back! I missed you so much, and Mother missed you too, I could tell, and the ravens up at the tower are nesting, and I got to hold one of the puppies down at the kennels, and I have a new dance teacher, she’s so much better than the old one, and what happened on your trip?”

Corvo set her down carefully. Already he felt more settled than he’d been in months. “Lots”, he answered, smiling at Emily’s excitement, “I’ll tell you about it at dinner. But first I have to talk to your Mother, Emily, it’s important.”

“Let’s play hide and seek, first, you have time. Mother is busy talking to the nasty old spymaster.” Emily took his hand and pulled him down the stairs.

“All right then.” While Emily closed her eyes and started to count, Corvo crouched in a corner behind some crates, and pulled the shadows of the late afternoon around him. Not so much that he was impossible to find, just making it a bit more difficult for Emily to spot him. She was the same age he’d been when his mother started to teach him how to sense people nearby. He could feel her tugging on the strands, very lightly, just as he’d taught her. After a while Emily pulled back.

“Ok, you’ve won. Let’s go so Mother can see you. Cheater.” Now _that_ was a challenge. Corvo sneaked slowly towards her, his hands in front of him. Just as he’d almost gotten close enough to tickle her, Emily turned around and slapped his hands away.

He stood up, nodding curtly. “Good job spotting me.”

“You know, Corvo, you’re not supposed to use shadow walking in hide and seek.” Even though she was walking in front of him, he could hear her pout.

“You could have found me anyway, dearheart, but for that you have to _listen_.”

Passing by Sokolov and Campbell, Corvo wasn’t sure which man he was more uneasy about.

While it wasn’t well known, Corvo had made a habit of being aware of the various interests the people around Jessamine had, and so he knew that Sokolov tried and tried again to contact the Outsider. Not that it’d ever work, that one picked his favorites on a whim, but Corvo was worried about just what Sokolov wanted to achieve by gaining the powers of the Void.

Campbell on the other hand was a concern for personal reasons. In theory the Abbey should be similar to other followers of the Pattern, but the centuries had made them more fanatic; Corvo wasn’t sure if they even could distinguish between the abilities of the Pattern and the Void. So he’d been careful to keep the entirety of his abilities secret, just like his mother and her parents before her.

Reaching the gazebo, Corvo could hear Jessamine, clipped and angry. “They’re sick people, not criminals.”

He could see Burrows next to her, superiority in every inch of his body. Clearly Corvo had been away for too long; this sort of attitude never flew when he was there to glare over Jessamine’s shoulder.

Emily interrupted the argument with the boldness of youth. “Mother, Corvo’s back.”

Jessamine still looked stern, but Corvo could see the smile hiding behind her eyes. “Thank you, Emily.” She turned towards Burrows. “Leave us.”

The Spymaster bowed slightly and turned to leave. As he passed by, Corvo made sure to catch his eye and radiate disapproval. Burrows flinched back ever so slightly. Good.

Now alone, Jessamine allowed the smile to reach her face. “Corvo. It’s good to have you back. What news do you bring?”

Corvo silently handed over the letter. He already knew what it said, so instead of watching Jessamine, he turned his attention inward, sinking down into the earth, stretching out, aware of everything around him. There was something _off_ here, something _not right._

Before he could figure it out, he was pulled back by Jessamine exclaiming: “Cowards! They’re going to blockade us. Wait for the plague to be over, one way or the other.”

Corvo wished he could console her. Take her into his arms, to be her shield against the world. But such things had to wait until evening, when they were alone and unobserved.

_Wrong wrong wrong wrong!_ Corvo’s very being tensed. He drew his sword. “Emily, hide!”

“Where are the guards?” Jessamine hissed, hiding behind Corvo, even as Emily ran towards one of her hiding places, clumsily pulling light and shadow around her, making herself harder to spot.

_Let it be enough_ , Corvo though fervently, _please, let it be enough. Let her escape._

Then he spotted the figure on the rooftop, materializing for mere moments before disappearing again.

_Voidwalkers!_ No wonder he hadn’t sensed them before, even being aware that something was wrong. They walked _between_ , rarely touching the weave of the world. But now that he knew, Corvo could do something. He settled his stance, casting his awareness outward. The first assailant materialized, and Corvo moved towards him, even as he aimed his pistol just where he _knew_ the second one would appear. A shot, and the masked figure disappeared just as quick as they’d taken shape.

Corvo stabbed his opponent in the shoulder and twirled towards where moments later a third attacker ran towards them. Blades clashed, and then the ivy on the column answered Corvo’s silent call, reached out and took the attacker in a stranglehold. They flailed, widely, dropping their sword, but managing to pull themselves into the Void, disappearing.

Corvo breathed deeply, his senses alert and _listened_. He could hear the dogs barking in their kennel, desperately trying to escape and run towards where Corvo had called for aid from everything he knew. Jessamine moved towards him, but Corvo shook his head. “It’s not over.”

Then he felt it. Invisible chains, reaching out, binding him, his connection to the Pattern distorted, and the world slowed down.

Someone before him, arms stretched out and power pouring out of them, obviously the source of the binding.

Corvo struggled to get loose, twisting this way and that, pushing and pulling at the chains binding him, and the strands that lay just beyond them.

Distantly he could hear Emily screaming his name; he reached for powers he didn’t use, never _wanted_ to use and flames erupted. Emily’s screams were matched with a deeper voice that had the raw terror of knowing imminent, painful death. But still it wasn’t enough. Blood running out of his nose, down his face, but his exhaustion overwhelmed by the need to get loose, loose, _loose._

_Someone new, red coat, unmasked, Jessamine screaming his name, then a blade in her body, and he’s dropping, his senses a mess of up, down, left, right._

_Jessamine…_

_Crawling towards her. Cradling her head in his arms. Her whisper “Protect Emily” and he tries, tries, but he never was very good at healing, and now his mind scrambled and reeling, and still he reaches, desperately, to stem the blood, to keep her heart beating, and she’s slipping, slipping, and gone, his name her last word_.

_Emily…_

_Frantically searching, she’s not here, her panic along their bond, incredibly distant yet improbably close._

_He’s only barely aware of arms grabbing him, a voice speaking, but it does not matter because they’re both gone, gone._

His mind turned black.

 


	3. The Change

Corvo slowly petted the rat sitting in his palm and considered his options. He had planned on escaping soon, with his execution only a week away. But there was something _weird_ happening. Some of the guard’s pathways had slowly shifted from the patterns Corvo had figured out a while ago. Maybe he should wait a bit longer, see what exactly the goal of those changes was? But then, with his execution coming closer, the security would be increased. Probably. It wouldn’t do, after all, to have Burrow’s prime scapegoat suddenly go missing.

No. No, the risk of waiting was too great. For all he knew, someone was preparing to break into the place to finish him off. Tie up a loose end, as it were. And even though he had nothing more to do than push healing into his wounds, he was still in no shape to fight.

He set the rat down.

“Go”, he whispered. The rat nudged his hand with its snout; then scampered between the bars out of the cell. Corvo spread out his senses, there was…something. Or rather, someone. A guard, moving with purpose towards the Interrogation Room. Now that was interesting. Nobody was in that room at this time of night, nor was there any activity that meant there would be someone there soon. Apart from that one, lonely guard. It was something to check out, definitely.

At that moment, the rat returned, a key between its teeth. Corvo smiled and picked it up. The rat hopped into one of his tattered pockets and Corvo pushed the key inside the lock and turned. Wincing at the loud screech of the opening door, Corvo slipped outside the cell. No guard in sight, so far so good.

Setting his feet carefully to keep his steps soundless, he sneaked towards the Interrogation Room. He knew at least that part of Coldridge intimately, since he was dragged there every other day. With the prison on sparsely lit, there were plenty of shadows to hide in, so Corvo ghosted past the guards, quiet and unseen, absentmindedly pocketing coins and other interesting pieces left unattended.

Jessamine had more than once accused him of being a magpie, half scolding and half amused. The memory of Jessamine made his heart clench. She was gone. She wouldn’t smile at him anymore. Shake her head at Emily’s antics or tell him off for encouraging her.

Blinking, Corvo shook the memory off. He had grieved for months and would continue grieving for even longer, but now was not the time.

 

The guard had his back to the door, standing in front of the safe in the back room and fiddling with the lock. Picking up a knife from the Torturer’s table, Corvo snuck behind the guard and pressed the blade to his throat.

“Now what exactly are you doing?” he whispered, suppressing a wince at the sound of his voice. Hoarse and raspy, containing the echoes of months of screaming. The guard froze, breathing quickly.

“Who?” he stuttered. Corvo pulled the blade back and quickly pushed the guard around, pressing him against the wall with one hand while the other put the knife back against the man’s neck.

“Lord Attano? How…?” The guards eyes were wide in surprise. And fear. Supposedly killing an Empress gave one a reputation, apparently. Corvo had never killed an innocent in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“Never you mind that. What. Are. You. Doing?” He pressed the knife closer, almost breaking skin.

 “Someone paid me to place this into the safe.” The guard answered quickly. He held up a satchel. “It was to help you escape. I was supposed to be given a signal, and leave a sword outside your cell, then put the key to your cell on your food tray.”

Corvo pulled back and took the satchel. His mind reeled. Was there someone who believed in his innocence after all? He peered inside. An explosive charge? “Was I supposed to blow up the prison with this?”

“The front gate, I think. Nobody told me, but that’s the only place you can’t easily open. I was just meant to place the items, nobody told me the plan!”

Corvo thought about it. Blowing up the front gate would be loud. And potentially messy, depending on how many guards were close when it blew. He preferred the path the rats had found for him, across the execution yard, over the wall and into the sewers. If he was lucky, his escape wouldn’t be noticed until morning. But then, people on his side might be useful.

“Can you contact your people?” he asked. The guard nodded. “Then tell them I’ll be waiting for them by the river, at the sewer exit.”

Without another word, Corvo turned around and left.

He moved across the inner yard and into the entrance area. Here came the painful part. Determinedly ignoring the way in pulled on half healed cuts, bruises and burns, Corvo pulled himself up on the pipes. He wanted to scream with the pain of it, but that would mean a quick end to his escape. There it was, an open window into the yard. He slipped outside and froze. Fresh air. How he had missed it. A small breeze, tugging on his hair like an old friend. The stars on the clear night sky, familiar and reassuring. Corvo shook himself and moved across the empty yard. If it weren’t so helpful, he’d be annoyed at the lack of security. The prison warden had gotten cocky, self-assured at Coldridge being inescapable. The wall was high, too high to jump up normally. But Corvo was hardly normal. He focused, pulled on the weave around him, and jumped, improbably high. Across the wall, then into the water.

The cold was a shock, taking his breath away. Arm muscles screaming, he fought his way to the surface and towards the sewers. He pulled himself out of the water, gasping for breath. The brown prison rat crawled out of his pocket, squeaking indignantly.

“Sorry”, Corvo muttered, amused despite himself. The rat shook itself, spraying his face with water. The squeaking multiplied, and he turned his head towards the noise. Two more rats, a white and a gray one, were running towards him and then nudging his face. Right, no time to rest. Corvo stood up. Rats were everywhere and got everywhere, and now they would show him the way out.

 

The Hound Pits Pub was in chaos. One simple message, _Corvo has escaped on his own_ , had set the lot of them in disarray. In midst the frantic preparation, Admiral Havelock had ordered Samuel to fetch the former Lord Protector.

How strange, Samuel mused, that Lord Attano had managed to escape without help. It was supposed to be impossible, and yet… There had always been whispers, of course, that there was something queer about Attano. But Samuel had never given it much thought before, the man protected the Empress, and he did it well, and that was that.

As he got closer to the river bank, Samuel could see a figure sitting against a rock, face turned towards the sunrise and eyes closed. A pair of ravens was sitting on his legs, and several rats were running around him, becoming more agitated as Samuel stopped the boat next to Attano. The man opened his eyes and got up with the manner of someone trying not to aggravate an injury. The ravens fluttered, one landing on his shoulder and the other on a hand Attano held in front of him

“I’m Samuel”, he introduced himself, “And I work with some good people who very much want to meet you.”

Attano nodded. “Corvo, pleased to meet you, Samuel.”

“We can leave as soon as you’re ready.” Instead of replying, Attano whistled, and three of the rats ran towards him and clambered up his clothes. Two of them disappeared into his pockets, the third sat on the shoulder unoccupied by a raven. Maybe there was some truth into the rumors about Corvo after all.

 

Meeting the Loyalists was exhausting and Corvo was glad when it was over. He could finally take a moment alone, standing on the walkway outside his room. With all of them still in the process of moving into the pub themselves, nobody had actually been prepared for Corvo arriving when he did. For some reason, Havelock had seemed almost displeased by Corvo’s escape. _He wanted my gratitude_ , Corvo thought, _and to make it clear that I depend on his goodwill._ Time would tell if the Loyalists thought of Corvo as an ally or a tool. For now, Corvo would rest. And then look for Emily. He turned to the two ravens, Alice and Bertram, who were part of the Dunwall Tower flock and had shown up shortly after Corvo had exited the sewers.

“Fly”, Corvo whispered, “Find her.”

Both birds launched from his hand; Corvo watched them disappear, then he went inside, fell into his bed and was asleep moments later.

 

_In another part of the city, Emily Kaldwin raised her head. Soon, her mind whispered. Things will change._

 


	4. The Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again a big Thank You to Jahaliel, the World's Best Beta

Emily spent most of her time listening, just like Corvo always told her to do. She listened and she waited for something to happen, a way to escape.

_ Don’t be rash, Emily _ , her parents’ voices echoed in her mind,  _ act if you have to, wait and listen and plan if you can. _

She’d never been the most patient person – something Corvo told her with a smile on his face would change with time – but this time she tried. And one morning, her patience was rewarded.

_ Something’s changed _ . She felt it in the air, the wind against her window, and the hushed voices outside her door.

_ Soon. _

Corvo woke up not exactly well rested – he could vaguely remember the void pulling on his dreams – but feeling better all the same. He stepped outside into the clean morning air on the path that connected his room to the tower, absentmindedly picking up the rats as he went. Both Bertram and Alice were waiting for him on the railing and fluttered into his hands eagerly. 

“Good morning, you two.” They cawed at him and butted their heads against his chin, making him smile. Corvo closed his eyes and  _ reached _ .

> _ A building …  _ But where? …  _ a sign … _ The Golden Cat? They were keeping his daughter in a  _ brothel _ ? …   
>  _ A barred window … a girl … recognition … Corvo’s fledgling, who feeds them _

The ravens hadn’t stayed long, dusk was coming closer and the birds couldn’t see well in the dark. But they had searched and found allies, who were now waiting, ready. Corvo thought back to what they’d seen of Emily. She’d been alert, listening, waiting; just the way he had taught her and they practiced and practiced again. Corvo couldn’t be prouder. Even though Emily was still a child, and not yet the strongest Pattern Weaver, against people unfamiliar with and unsuspecting of her powers, it might just be enough. Corvo reached again, but wider. 

_ If there is a way, a path, take it. _ He went back inside and headed downstairs to see what the so-called Loyalists had planned.

 

* * *

 

Admiral Havelock approached Corvo while he was having breakfast, courtesy of Lydia.

“Corvo, it is good to see you awake. Now, our first target is High Overseer Thaddeus Campbell. With him out of the way, one of ours can replace him. Teague Martin, you will meet him later. I know assassination is a dirty business, but sometimes bad things but be done to achieve the best outcome.”

“Assassination?” Corvo interrupted him. Now he understood what they wanted him for. Incapable of or unwilling to do the dirty work themselves, they needed someone willing and able to do it. Though Corvo had to admit he was plenty motivated to deal with the people responsible for Jessamine’s death, revenge was not the right way. “Let me stop you right there. Death only ever begets more death. Killing Campbell might be revenge for Jessamine, but it will not be justice.”

“Corvo, this is not the time for idealism. Campbell must be removed from office, otherwise the Overseers will continue to run rampant in the city”, Havelock protested. Unhappy about Corvo refusing to be his weapon, clearly. But they were going to do it Corvo’s way, or not at all.

“I agree he must be removed as High Overseer. But that doesn’t necessarily mean he needs to die. There are other ways, and I will find them.”

Havelock looked relieved, though still miffed. Just what had he expected, a leashed attack dog? That prison had stripped Corvo of his humanity?

“Campbell owns a black book he records information in. Bring it back, it might tell us the location of Lady Emily. ” And here was the dangling lure, getting him focused on Emily. Corvo had only ever killed in defense of the Empress and her daughter, a fact that probably hadn’t escaped Havelock’s notice. Now, to tell them that he already knew where Emily was or not? The Golden Cat was close to Clavering Boulevard, like the Office of the High Overseer. Corvo just might make a quick detour on the way back. 

“I agree that recovering Emily should be our highest priority,” was all he said. Better to keep them on their toes.

 “Talk to Piero before you leave, he planned to make your gear. Though of course, we didn’t expect you here quite so soon.” Havelock left, leaving Corvo to finish eating. Of course, how dare he escape Coldridge by himself? How terribly inconvenient for them. Corvo got up and looked around. No trace of Lord Pendleton; that one was probably still in bed. Corvo snorted,  _ aristocrats _ . 

“Excuse me? Lord Attano?” Called Cecilia from her place by the stairs, wringing her hands nervously.

“Just Corvo’s fine. What is it, Cecilia?”

“I cleaned and mended your coat. There are also some clean shirts and trousers for you if you want them. They’re probably not the quality you’re used to, but they might help.” Corvo looked down at the torn and dirty shirt he was still wearing and smiled slightly.

“I should probably clean up before I leave, else every dog in the city will smell me coming a mile away. Thank you Cecilia, you’re very kind.”

She blushed slightly; then skittered away after a half-fumbled curtsy.

Corvo reached Piero’s workshop just in time to nip the next insanity in the bud.

“I will absolutely not be wearing a mask!”

“But”, Piero almost looked like he might start to cry, having his idea rejected. “You’re a wanted fugitive. People might recognize you.”

It was almost like those campy adventure novels Jessamine had been enamored with when she was younger. A masked person, creeping through the city, dispersing death and justice. Or something. Though why everyone thought Corvo was about to go on a murder spree, he didn’t understand.

“Piero, I appreciate the thought, but I have no intention of being seen. And believe me, I have a lot of practice with that.” He had to, not only to familiarize himself with Dunwall, but because Princess Jessamine had been fond of walking through the city anonymously before she became Empress. Afterwards she had been too busy, leaving it to Corvo alone to keep an ear on the pulse of the city.

“Well if you’re sure.” Piero recovered his good spirits in short order and began piling Corvo with other random gear he might or might not use.

While on the river with Samuel on the way to the Distillery District later, Corvo tugged on the hood hidden inside the collar of his coat. Shadows fluttered around his face, hiding it from view.

 

* * *

 

Unseen and unheard, Corvo ghosted through the abbey, searching for High Overseer Campbell. He'd made a point of visiting the place as rarely as possible before, and now he was paying for it. But then, who'd have thought the High Overseer was that corrupt. 

Just as he was hopping on the ledge outside to evade a patrolling overseer, he felt it. Somewhere in the city, something was happening. Something important. And he had a feeling just what it might be. Corvo held out his arm, and Alice landed on it moments later. As always, the ravens stuck close to him, though they didn’t fly inside of buildings usually. 

“Go”, he whispered, “find her. Help her.”

A soft caw and Alice was gone, flying northward. Corvo crept along the ledge, closer to his goal.

After a brief visit to the library, reading up on a half remembered ritual, he reached Campbell's office, where he heard two people arguing. One of them was Campbell, the voice just as grating as it always was; the other Corvo recognized with surprise as Captain Curnow, who so far had been absent on either side of the conflict.

"Guilty or not, there is no chance in the Void that increasing the guard presence in the streets will have any effect on the search for Corvo."

"But Captain, surely you must agree that even Corvo is no match for the city guard. He must be caught, dead or alive."

"Corvo? The one who regularly sneaks into the guard barracks to startle my people out of their skin, that Corvo? Who made a sport of surprising slacking guard posts and point out flaws in their security? High Overseer, the main reason Corvo was in Coldridge is that it was the only place capable of holding him. Or that's what we thought, anyway. If anything, Corvo will drive my guards insane for fun."

Despite himself, Corvo smirked. He and Curnow looked back on many years of a curious mix of friendship and rivalry. And it would seem Curnow wasn't entirely convinced of Corvo's guilt. They would need to talk, and soon. Corvo really could need every ally possible, and Curnow at least would have no hidden agenda.

Close to the stairwell, there was a small room that seemed currently unoccupied. But still, they would have to be quick, and hopefully silent. Corvo slipped into the room, leaving the door a crack open behind him. Crouched down, just close enough that he could see through the crack, Corvo pulled off his hood and whistled softly. It was a melody he still didn’t know the name of, but both him and Curnow were intimately familiar with it. The helmsman on the ship had whistled it many times during their journey across the isles, and it had driven Curnow absolutely crazy. So naturally, Corvo had learned the melody by heart. 

Outside the door, Curnow stopped. He turned slowly and walked towards the door. Corvo didn’t move; there was no use hiding when he wanted to talk to the man. The next few moments happened very quickly. Curnow entered, saw him, and pulled his sword; Corvo barely remembered to call a gust of wind to close the door, when the blade was pressed against his throat.

“Corvo. I should have guessed you’d show up sooner or later.” The expression on Curnow’s face was hard to read. Determination, anger, but also a hint of… sorrow?

“I didn’t do it, Captain. You know I didn’t. I’d rather have died than harm her”, Corvo said. Talking made the blade cut into his skin, he could feel a trickle of blood running down his neck. Curnow looked at him, long and hard, then nodded, lowering his sword.

“Thank…” Corvo started, but then was pushed against the wall and kissed within an inch of his life. Of all the things Corvo had expected to happen, this wasn’t it. There’d been hints Curnow had an inclination towards men in general, and Corvo especially. He wasn’t completely dense, no matter what Jessamine said. The movement of lips against his own snapped Corvo out of his thoughts, he grabbed Curnow by the lapels of his coat and pulled him closer, pouring all of his loneliness, desperation and admittedly repressed feelings into the kiss.

When they pulled apart, Curnow looked at Corvo almost tenderly and softly placed a hand on one of the half-healed cuts on Corvo’s face. Corvo barely suppressed a gasp; he was not used to friendly touches anymore. They should be talking about this, whatever it was, but there was no time. And Curnow obviously agreed.

“What in the Void happened, Corvo?”

“What in the Void indeed.” Corvo took a deep breath and began to recount the most painful day in his life…

 

* * *

 

“Voidwalkers? Are you sure?” Geoff tightened the hand he’d placed on Corvo’s shoulder when he’d started to shake trying recount Jessamine’s last moments. 

Corvo nodded. “I have no idea who they are, but I’m sure.”

“I’ll have a look, see what I can find. There must be rumors at least. What about Emily?”

“She’s safe-ish.  _ They _ had her, but I suspect she’s run away by now. I just have to pick her up.” Corvo was proud of the amount of confidence he managed to put into his voice. He trusted Emily to be safe, but he still worried about her. He always did.

“If you are sure”, Geoff sounded doubtful, and Corvo didn’t blame him. “I live in the Tower District. If there is nowhere else, she’ll be safe with me.”

The look in his eyes said  _ as will you _ , but he didn’t say it. Despite, or maybe because of, the kiss, the air was tense between them, things unsaid and desperate to be out in the open. As Corvo’s mother used to say, love has the worst timing.

“Thank you. Be safe, Geoff.” Corvo turned to leave. “I’ll make sure to contact you soon.”

“Take care, Corvo.” 

Corvo could feel Geoff’s eyes on his back as he slipped out of the room and tugged his hood back over his head. For now he had a High Overseer to find.

 

* * *

 

“We should move the girl.”

The words snapped Emily out of her thoughts. Ever since she felt the change in the air yesterday she had been listening and waiting, alert and ready. Corvo would come for her. But if they moved her someplace else, it would be so much harder to find her. She had to get away. The doors were locked, she needed a window. But how to find an open one? Heavy footsteps came closer towards her door, echoed by her heart thundering in her chest.

_ Don’t panic, Dearheart.  _ Her mother’s voice in her ear, joined by Corvo’s.  _ Breathe. _

Inhale. Exhale.

The air moved in time with her breaths. A small breeze ruffling her hair. She crouched next to the door, ready.

Inhale. Exhale.

The key clicked in the lock. The door opened, one of the Pendleton twins stepped into the room. No hesitation; she slipped past him, the small breeze turning stronger, tugging her towards a room. Run inside, paying no attention to the two people on the bed, startled upwards. A window, the curtains fluttering. Up on the windowsill, her feet pushing her up and out, Emily jumped.

Inhale. Exhale.

The wind caught her. Her fall turned into a controlled tumble, her feet touched the ground running, the wind still urging her forwards. Suddenly a guard, stepping outside an alcove, moving towards her. But the next moment a dog, half-grown, snarling and tearing at him. 

Emily ran past, she didn’t look close, didn’t pay attention to the screams falling silent. And the sound of paws behind, then next to her. Into an alley through a broken door, up a stairway. She  _ reached _ outward.

Inhale. Exhale.

_ This way _ . Back out of a window, dropping into another alley. Run, run…

 “There she is!

_ Don’t look back, watch where you’re going. _ Footsteps getting closer and closer behind her. An opening in the wall, and a swarm of rats pouring out. And even more, running in front, behind, next to her.

And finally, the cawing of a raven, old-familiar. Corvo! She followed the black wings leading her towards freedom.

 

* * *

 

Campbell woke up strapped to the chair in the interrogation room, a hooded man sitting idly on the small table before him. He wanted to shout, but found he was gagged. But the man still noticed him awake and looked up from the book he was reading.

“You know, I was always aware that the Abbey’s interpretation of the strictures had wandered from their original meaning, but reading this drivel still makes me despair sometimes.” He knew that voice, recognized it from countless hours of arguing. Corvo! 

“Restrict the Wandering Gaze, for the eyes that wander miss what is in front of them. See Truth, and hold it in your heart.” 

The book he now recognized as one of the scripture books from the library landed behind Corvo with a dull thud.

"Restrict the Lying Tongue, for a Truth covered in Lies is easily forgotten. You lot got that part right at least.” 

Corvo hopped from the table and went behind the chair. His footsteps stopped for a moment, the rustling of the cloak suggested Corvo had picked something up, then returned.

"Restrict the Restless Hands, for taking idly without purpose what is not yours will yet bring harm to those you take from.” 

Corvo returned, holding… the heretic’s brand!

"Restrict the Roving Feet, for a duty scorned and a problem unsolved will be returned threefold to scorn you in return.” 

Corvo swung the brand upwards and looked at the symbol, frowning, then hopped back on the table.

"Restrict the Rampant Hunger, for if you eat while others starve, their death will be a mark on your soul.” 

He swung the brand idly, once, twice, and the metal slowly started to smoke.

"Restrict the Wanton Flesh, for your desires are no obligation to others. Don’t take what is not willingly given, and don’t demand what is not yours to take.”

The brand was now glowing from the heat. Campbell started to struggle, but his bonds were holding fast.

"Restrict the Errant Mind, for holding onto your opinions after they are proven false is to deny Truth and will push you away from what is Right.”

Corvo stood up and walked towards him, raising the brand.

“If there ever was a High Overseer who broke the Strictures so thoroughly as to deserve this, it’s certainly you.”

Pain. Then darkness.

 

* * *

 

Samuel wished he could be surprised at the hooded figure jumping from the wall up high, with a raven flying next to him. He’d known Corvo for only a day, but already he had accepted that Corvo was  _ strange _ . He seemed more present than other people, more aware. It wasn’t the first time Samuel had met someone like that, and probably it wouldn’t be the last. What did surprise him was the wind that seemed to catch Corvo’s coat, slowing his fall. The man himself landed gracefully next to Samuel on the pier and pulled off his hood. The hood itself was strange; the shadows it cast seemed to creep around Corvo’s face, making it unrecognizable.

“Didn’t you have two of those?” Samuel gestured towards the raven that had landed on Corvo’s shoulder. If Corvo was strange, Samuel had seen stranger, back in the Navy, and if he knew one thing than that if he wanted explanations, he needed Corvo to trust him. Which meant no prying and uncomfortable questions.

“Alice is on an… errand. She’ll be back later.” Corvo’s shoulders seemed to relax just a fraction at Samuel’s easy acceptance of his weirdness.

“I heard what happened to Campbell and I believe he deserved what he got. I’m glad you found a way without bloodshed. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes I am. Let’s get out of here.” Corvo hopped on board, and they were off.

Halfway between the Distillery District and Kaldwin Bridge, Corvo’s head snapped up and towards the shore.

“Samuel, stop  _ there. _ ” He pointed towards a secluded alley that ended by the river in a half-broken pier. Samuel thought about protesting, every moment they were out on the water made them more likely to be spotted, but Corvo shot him a Look. There clearly was no use arguing, so he stopped the boat at the indicated spot.

“Care to tell me what this is about then?” he asked when he heard it. The sound of feet on cobblestone. The panting of a dog. The squeaking of rats. Corvo jumped on land, and they rounded the corner. In the center of the group was a girl, a young dog with blood on its muzzle ran next to her. And around them rats in every color. 

“Corvo!” the girl shouted, and Samuel suddenly understood what was happening. She threw herself into Corvo’s arms, who started to laugh with joy and relief. The dog jumped around both of them, while the rats disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived.

“Emily”, Corvo whispered, “Dearheart, it is so good to see you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Visit my tumblr @dragonhoardsbookz


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